I am tired of standing on the chickens' waterbucket. I pull it out of the coop, frozen solid, flip it over outside the barn and stand on it to break the ice away from the rubber walls. Then I have to roll the sides to get the ice to fall out. You can tell how cold it's been for how long by how many piles of unmelted ice there are. I did this to the other waterbucket in the run and forgot there's a six-foot roof. Standing on the bucket didn't work that morning, so I jumped on it. And promptly banged my head on the boards holding up the wire on top of the run. Ow.
The chickens are managing pretty well. We've had 13 since last May. We don't lose them to hawks now that their run is properly covered. But one passed away this week. It was a heavy biddy and I'm guessing it was Gimpy, the last of the original chickens. She'd be pretty old by now. RIP Gimpy. Her body awaits a proper burial from Weatherdude. We're expecting a warming trend this weekend.
So 12 chickens and we're getting at least 6 eggs every day, sometimes 1-2 more. Not bad for the depth of winter and half these chickens are about two years old. The other six are just shy of one year old. I've had a request to bring dozens of eggs with my to Philly next weekend for the workshop. I might be able to find some lying around the fridge.